Omaha to NYC Day 27

Static map: https://ridewithgps.com/trips/413711367?privacy_code=MTCReJZd2NIpR7lRiD2iRnQIi6HZUHxm

Animated map: 

https://www.relive.com/view/vPOp7ZGAdEv

Today's entry is starting at 8:04 am! Before the ride! Thanks to spending the night at a bed and breakfast, I have some down time. The weather forecast improved. It's not raining. I could have camped, but I am thoughtfully enjoying the easy time. I'm sitting at a coffee shop. I even read some of the Great Gatsby. It's my New York book. I have not been reading much this trip. I prefer learning about the new places I am traveling through. 

Port Stanley is an old beach town and has long catered to people coming down from London. A plaque on a building next to the B&B mentioned it had the biggest dance floor in Canada in the 1910s. There was a train line to bring tourists. It's a tourist train now. There's the beach party side and the old town side. I'm on the old town side. I'm about to head to the B&B for a quick breakfast then I'll be off. 

(Bikes have been in Port Stanley for a while)

At 8:30 sharp I was at the hotel for my breakfast … a standard Comfort Inn continental. I was disappointed until I realized I hadn't had cereal in almost a month. I'd be able to eat fast, too. I was on the road a little after 9:00.

(Cereal on the veranda)

The route started with a jolt, an actual hill, one with a double digit grade. I had to use my smallest front chainring AKA the ‘Granny Gear'. It wasn't long before I was in the country. I saw workers harvesting. They had Vietnamese style hats. I wondered where they were from. I passed a tractor and truck parked on the road. A guy was tossing corn into the truck. I seemed like it had fallen out. 

(Harvest time)

The road wound along the bluff on the shoreline. I had good views of the lake. This end of the lake is punctuated by ravines formed by streams flowing into the lake. They were a kind of reverse hill in the otherwise flat landscape and added spice to the ride. 

(Lots of goldenrod)

Twenty three miles in and shortly before noon I made Port Burwell. I stopped for lunch. The restaurants all have local lake fish on the menu. I had bass fish and chips. On the way out of town I noted the shift in football allegiance from Detroit to Buffalo. Trump is definitely not popular, but the folks here still like Americans. I had a small hiccup finding a good way to leave. There were several road closures.

(Don't mess with Mikel)

I headed for Long Point. Asking the way I ride some gravel roads. It's the monarch butterfly migration. They love to rest on the gravel. I kept startling them. I hope they don't get smooshed. I wanted to get a picture but they flew away too fast. I saw a couple of coyotes and a fox as well. 

At the turn off for Long Point I had to decide if I really wanted to see another point sticking into Lake Erie. There’s only one way in and out. It’s a point after all. It added ten miles. I decided, yes, I needed to see Long Point. The first bit was a huge wetland filled with waterfowl. Egret and herons strolled looking for fish. Geese rested in the open water. Two people were bird watching. One was a glider pilot and described catching thermals with hundreds of sandhill cranes. They have done some bike touring in Europe and want to ride the Erie Canal Trail, but will wait until we get rid of Trump.

(Long Point)

(Fall migration)

The next bit was full of vacation cottages and boats. As I was passing through town it began to rain. Still I rode on toward the park at the end of the point. A lot of it is off limits to people to allow birds to rest easily. There was open space to the east. It was filled with beach plants. I reached the park, but didn’t go in. It was raining, there was a fee, and it wasn’t a linger at the beach sort of day. I retraced my route back and saw the bird watching couple retreating back home in t-shirts in the rain. 

(Waiting for sun)

I was getting close, 22 miles to my Warnshowers hosts, Jamie and Heather. Today was longer than my two previous days, but the miles seemed to fly by. After Port Rowan (all the towns are ‘Port Something') I passed a curious quarter developed subdivision. I couldn’t imagine where people living there would work. Its not close to anything.

(Real estate opportunity)

I also passed a bunch of wineries. Heather told me this is a new thing in the last ten years. This area is surprisingly warm. Trees that grow in the Carolinas grow here. Snow doesn’t stay all winter. The grew tobacco, but the growers have been switching to grapes. 

(Seems like home)

It continued to rain. I passed Turkey Point. It is a forested area. A blast of pine tree smells reminded me of home. That and the rain. I travelled down and up several ravines, huffing and puffing. I got out of shape for hills. As usual, I had a ‘smell the barn’ feeling at the end of the day and kept checking the map. After 75 miles I was at Heather and Jamie’s.

I arrived at a neat house in the country. I passed a small cabin which would be me shelter for the evening. At the house, I met Heather and learned Jamie is off on an annual trip with family for fishing and moose hunting. Heather was kept company by their dog Jake who is recovering from surgery but doing well. He’s very particular about his beds and spends a long time gettin

g them right. He sleeps under a mountain of blankets. He must be Zoey’s soulmate. That’s Kisho and Abby’s dog.

(Jake thinking about the need for blankets)

Over dinner Heather told me all about the area, how she and Jaie built the house by themselves, and their three kids. Before long it was getting dark and it was time to retire to the cabin.